


Heroism and Other Stupidities

by etrix



Series: Destinies and Other Choices [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Episode Related, Episode: s05e22 Swan Song, Gen, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-21
Updated: 2010-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-13 05:52:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etrix/pseuds/etrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fix-it for 5.22, Swan Song. Anansi called their quest ‘How the Trickster Gods Stormed Hell’ and it was possibly the stupidest thing Gabriel had ever done. Well, aside from confronting Lucifer and trusting a bunch of Trickster gods with his life. Anyway, it was all the Winchesters’ fault</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heroism and Other Stupidities

* * *

“This is a really bad idea. I can’t believe I let you guys talk me into this. I’m a Trickster! Heroism isn’t my thing.” Saci was so nervous he was flubbing his juggling and he only had three stones in the air. It was embarrassing, or would be, if he cared, which he didn’t. All he cared about was coming out of this stupid place alive as in ‘not killed even once’. “This was a stupid idea,” he repeated.  
   
Loki actually growled even though he wasn’t the canine. “Saci? Shut the fuck up.”  
   
“No seriously. What the hell were we thinking?” There was a soft ‘eh?’ from the stern-faced woman who led them at a quick march. The small god kept up to the others easily, loping along on his one leg. “We’re not hero material.”  
   
“Speak for yourself,” Nezha muttered. He came from a family of great warriors and he’d fought against evil before when he defeated Ao Bing. It’s just that, recently, there had been less need of fighting evil than of teaching lessons in humility to buffoons—an English word he rather liked.  
   
“Okay, alright, _you_ have hero genes in you,” the South American Trickster conceded, “And maybe Māui does too, but not the rest of us.”  
   
“Excuse me?” Gabriel interrupted, “Angel… as in ‘Soldier of God’… ring any bells?”  
   
“Former angel,” said the spider on his shoulder, “and haven’t fought a major battle in over four millennia if I count the years correctly.”  
   
Saci bounced up beside them, “That explains why _you_ thought this was a good idea. It doesn’t explain the rest of us going along with it.”  
   
“I just like to fight,” Loki slipped in. His daughter snorted as if he’d just announced the sky was up.  
   
The African Trickster jumped over Gabriel’s head to settle on the shoulder nearest Saci. Gabriel barely managed to control his impulse to slap at the creature that was making free with his body. He felt unsettled, here in his brother’s world. It was like sandpaper rubbing on the inside of his skin, and having an eight-legged god crawling through his hair wasn’t helping him achieve the serene control angels were famous for. Not that he’d ever been good at calm control but that was beside the point.  
   
“Nobody said you had to be here,” Anansi said to the small Trickster, “In fact, you could always head back. I’m sure you’ll be fine by yourself. You are, after all, a god.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.  
   
Hel, only a pace or two ahead of them, gave a grunt of disapproval and Anansi rolled all of his eyes. Who’d’ve thought a child of Loki could have absolutely no sense of humour whatsoever. She wasn’t wrong though because, even with Saci’s powers, he would likely be killed or captured on his own.  
   
Hell was in complete disarray.  
   
Lucifer was back in the box, locked away from all those who would serve him. The old power structure was gone. Azazel and Lilith were dead and the angels, who fell with Lucifer back when he’d originally been cast down, had moved up top in preparation for the battle with Heaven’s forces and had been locked out when Sam Winchester pulled Michael into the pit.  
   
There were still demons in Hell but none was strong enough to take control and that was the problem. A lot were trying to take over, too many in fact, all over the place, gathering followers, building armies; each convinced they were the best demon for the job. There were pitched battles and guerrilla wars being fought and the Tricksters were trying to sneak right through it all. Saci was right, Gabriel knew, this was a stupidly heroic gesture and they were all likely going to die... again.  
   
Hel, Loki’s overly serious daughter, had done a good job of avoiding the areas with the most fighting but they’d come across a war party or two. Good thing none of Hell’s denizens were expecting to come across a well armed party of Trickster gods on a mission. However, the sounds and smell of battle were all around them. It may have been Hell, and these may have been demons dying, but their blood and rotting flesh smelled as bad as mortal remains did.  
   
“You guys are assholes,” Saci said with a pout, “We could be here for _days_ , maybe even weeks, looking for your friend.”  
   
Gabriel rolled his eyes, “Look, what does it matter? You just disappear when something nasty comes close anyway so it’s not like they could catch you.”  
   
“Of course, if he’d let us steal his cap we could be done with this,” Coyote suggested, not for the first time. They’d tried just jumping to where they needed to go but there’d been something blocking them. Only Saci had been able to transport himself.  
   
Saci hopped even farther away from the large canid, hands pulling his red cap firmly around his ears. It was well known that the boy god would grant a wish to anyone who stole his cap. The down side was that the thief would never be able to wash away the smell of stale sweat and farts that permeated the thing. It would cling to his hands for the rest of his life. Since gods live a long, _long_ time, none of Saci’s fellow Tricksters were willing to actually touch the red cap.  
   
Anansi had suggested that the little Brazilian god just pretend someone had grabbed it. That way he could grant their wish of being at Lucifer’s cage. He’d refused. So now they were walking. The whole way.  
   
When they’d first settled that little detail, before they’d even left Helheim, Anansi had turned back into a spider and plopped himself on Gabriel. He said he’d change back into a humanoid if it became absolutely necessary but why waste the energy in the mean time? For a god and a spider, he was a lazy bastard.  
   
“Are you sure you know where they’re being held?” Loki asked his daughter.  
   
“I have a good idea,” she answered. It was as precise an answer as she’d given any of the others when they’d asked her.  
   
Māui flew back to them. He’d changed his plumage to something a little less conspicuous but it was still obvious that he was a tropical bird of paradise and completely out of place in Hell.  
   
He settled on Loki’s shoulder, since his were the widest, and gave his report to Hel. She listened attentively and respectfully. The dour demi-goddess had taken a liking to the Oceanic Trickster despite the complete mismatch they represented—Māui with his bright plumage and Hel with her stark black and white—and they had developed a good partnership. Maybe she’d told him where the cage was, Gabriel mused.  
   
“We’re coming to a tricky bit,” she said after talking to Māui.  
   
“Good thing we’re all Tricksters then,” Loki muttered. Coyote’s tongue lolled out in agreement.  
   
Predictably, she ignored them. “There’s a big cavern up ahead, a nexus, that we have to get across.”  
   
“There’s no way around it?” Saci asked hopefully.  
   
She shook her head once sharply. “I usually can sneak around the edges of it but it appears one of the stronger demons has taken control of it. It has the entrances guarded.”  
   
“We’ll need a distraction then,” Nezha mused, “something that they will chase out of the chamber.”  
   
“And away from us,” Anansi pointed out. “No point in pulling them in our direction.”  
   
“It might be fun,” Loki disagreed.  
   
Coyote coughed derisively and delicately wrapped his tail over his dark toes. “Not my idea of fun.”  
   
“True that,” Gabriel murmured. He’d much rather sneak in and sneak out with no one the wiser... too many centuries in his Witness Protection Program to want to act openly.  
   
“Of course away from this spot,” Nezha sneered at them, “It would hardly be a success if we all wound up dead, would it? Saci!” He called.  
   
The little god jumped, his stones slipping through his hands. “What?” He looked at the young Asian god floating on his disks of wind and fire and started shaking his head. “No, uh-uh, no way. Not a snowball’s chance in hell.” Coyote snorted and Loki smiled. The Norse god tossed the small, frozen ball gently in the air. Saci looked at it then realized what he’d said.  
   
“Ah _filho da puta,_ ” he sighed unhappily. “How long do you need?”  
   
“Ten minutes,” Hel stated.  
   
“Ten minutes? Are you crazy?”  
   
“Think of the glory you will earn,” Nezha’s eyes flashed with excitement.  
   
Saci stared at him; “I don’t want glory,” he said, “I just want to live.”  
   
“Quit being a pussy and just go already,” Coyote barked. He’d unwrapped his tail and was stretching, getting ready for the run.  
   
Saci shook a finger at them, “Just this once, understand? I don’t want to be no stupid hero.”  
   
“So be a smart one instead,” Anansi voice smirked.  
   
The boy-god glared at him, “Oh, you’re hilarious... for a bug.”  
   
“I’m an arachnid,” the African Trickster yelled, “Not an insect!” but Saci was already gone.  
   
Māui snuck around the corner, close to where the demons had set up a guard post, settling on a small outcropping in the rough stone, so he was the only one who got a full view of Saci’s attention-getting antics. The South American Trickster appeared in the tunnel on the left in a blinding flash of light—with glitter even—and an ear-busting crash of sound—timpani and cannon—but it was the mocking bare-ass dance wiggle that got the demon army riled up. With a roar half the demons charged after him.  
   
Unfortunately, that left the other half still milling about the chamber.  
   
“This is it,” Māui announced. “Let’s go.”  
   
With shouts and hollers, Gabriel and the others ran or flew into the chamber. There were still a few demons in their way but they bulled their way through, pushing into and over the confused demons in their path. Anansi called out ‘excuse us’ and ‘sorry’ and ‘coming through, please’. It was meant to be ironic but nobody but Gabriel could hear him so the effort was wasted. Or maybe it _was_ working because they crossed the chamber fairly quickly and easily.  
   
Except, as every Trickster knows, good luck never lasts.  
   
They were nearly halfway across the chamber when the ground shook and there was a roar that actually changed the air pressure. A solid wall of demons, dozens thick, appeared in front of them stopping their forward progress.  
   
“I think the boss demon noticed us,” Anansi said in a dry tone. They backed into the nearest wall.  
   
“Ya think?” Gabriel returned. Nezha floated just slightly above them. Māui dropped down to perch on a jagged ledge behind them.  
   
“It’s actually exciting,” the spider-god said, “I’ve never seen demon king before.”  
   
“I wouldn’t mind postponing the pleasure indefinitely,” Māui commented. He moved to sit on Loki’s shoulder; the rock had been uncomfortable. Loki didn’t seem to mind.  
   
“It’s probably not a king,” Gabriel corrected, “Unless it was a self-coronation.”  
   
“We can still call him ‘lord’,” Nezha suggested, “Respect to an unknown opponent often equals survival.”  
   
“Because they decide they like you and let you go?” Anansi asked.  
   
Loki snorted, “Because it gives you time to assess their weaknesses.”  
   
“INTRUDERS!” Lesser demons scattered, clearing a path for their leader to come charging through the chamber. Another angry roar echoed around the chamber. “TRESPASSERS!” Unfortunately, the roar filled the air with more than just noise because the demon lord’s breath smelled worse than Saci’s hat.  
   
Coyote whined and covered his nose. Gabriel swallowed desperately, trying to control his gag reflex. Loki did the same. Everyone with noses breathed through their mouths. Soon that wasn’t enough. The stench only grew worse as the demon lord roared its way over to them  
   
From a distance it had looked impressive; the so-called demon lord towered over its followers-slash-minions. As it came closer they could see that it had fangs and horns and a tail. It even had bat-like wings extending from its back. If that wasn’t trite enough, it was covered in shiny black armour from its neck to its cloven feet.  
   
“That’s it! _That’s_ the best it could come up with?” Anansi’s voice was offended. “Unbelievable.”  
   
“You don’t to have imagination to be sent to Hell,” Gabriel pointed out  
   
“And if you are a creative genius or an original thinker, Hel plucks you out of here and takes you back home with her.” There was a great deal of pride for his daughter in the Trickster’s voice.  
   
Embarrassed but pleased, the Norse demi-goddess shifted a little on her feet, “I merely enjoy intelligent conversation.” It was the most words she’d ever spoken to them at one time.  
   
“Which explains why she only talks to Māui,” Loki laughed at them. The bird god preened.  
   
“WHO DARES ENTER MY REALM?” Gabriel could almost see the noxious plume of exhale envelop them in its poisonous embrace.  
   
“If it proves to be a moron, do we still have to be polite?” Coyote whimpered and curled himself into a ball, nose tucked firmly into his fur.  
   
“We’re not here to cause trouble—” Gabriel started.  
   
“I don’t mind trouble,” Loki interrupted. Nezha murmured his agreement  
   
“—we’re just passing through.”  
   
The big demon—literally, it stood half again as tall as Loki—leaned over them, nostrils flaring. “I SMELL ANGEL!”  
   
“I’m surprised it can smell anything,” Coyote whined, wiggling deeper into his own fur.  
   
“Oh, great Lord Unimaginativus,” Anansi intoned, “Please let us pass.”  
   
“NONE SHALL PASS!”  
   
Gabriel rolled his eyes because, really? _That_ was just embarrassing.  
   
Coyote now had his nose buried in his own butt and it probably _did_ smell better. “You could become a bird,” Māui suggested, looking down. “They scent things much differently than mammals.”  
   
“Uh, not a good idea,” Coyote mumbled from his hiding spot. “Raven doesn’t like it very much. He says it confuses the people. And he’s meaner than I am.”  
   
Māui snorted, “So change into a kiwi. You don’t have to be a raven.”  
   
“YOU DARE TO IGNORE ME?”  
   
Coyote coughed, “Dude, breath mints.”  
   
“Beg your pardon, Lord Stereotypicus. They have minds like steel whatcha-ma-callits.” Anansi said in a soothing tone, “Now, where were we?”  
   
“I WAS ABOUT TO _CRUSH_ YOU!”  
   
“Right. That’s a good place to start negotiations,” Gabriel rolled his eyes.  
   
“All we want is go there,” Nezha said impatiently, pointing at the far side “We don’t want to hurt you.”  
   
“YOU MOCK ME?”  
   
“No, no, Lord Boringus,” the spider god assured him, “Well, maybe a little, but we can’t help it.”  
   
“It’s in our genes,” Loki backed him up.  
   
Anansi crawled down to Gabriel’s ear so he could whisper, “Now’s where he says ‘prepare to die’.”  
   
“ _ENOUGH!_ ” the demon roared, “PREPARE TO DIE.”  
   
“Oh yeah,” the spider crowed in triumph, “I’m _good_!”  
   
“AZRAGOTH” a different voiced thundered. “PREPARE TO MEET YOUR DOOM!”  
   
With a roar, their demon lord turned to face the newcomer. “BAZRAGOTH! YOU DARE?” he roared again and caused a foul smelling breeze to swirl around the chamber.  
   
“You have _got_ to be kidding me,” Anansi moaned. “Azragoth and Bazragoth? Talk about clichéd…”  
   
The two demon lords shouted insults at each other using smack talk they had obviously learned from TV interviews with wanna-be rap stars.  
   
“If another one shows up, will he be named ‘Cazragoth?” Māui wondered in amusement.  
   
“If he is, I’m packing my bags and going home,” Anansi fumed. “Hell is supposed to be exciting not… not this! This uninspired display of every stereotype known to Hollywood and bad literature.”  
   
“Maybe that’s why the Anglos consider it Hell,” Coyote said, “because it kind of is.” They couldn’t help but laugh because, yeah, an eternity of _this_? Would definitely be a circle of Hell. Unfortunately, their laughter drew the demon lord’s attention back to them.  
   
“YOU!” it roared and pointed a massive finger at them. “I WILL DEAL WITH YOU LATER.”  
   
“Oo, I’m shaking in my boots, Lord Insipidus.” Gabriel could feel Anansi waving at least two of his legs around. It tickled and the former angel barely refrained from scratching and maybe injuring the spider god.  
   
Then the baying of dogs echoed in the chamber, big dogs, and lots of them and he lost the urge to do anything but curse. “Shit.”  
   
“What?” Māui asked.  
   
“Hell Hounds,” Gabriel muttered.  
   
“They are real?”  
   
“Unfortunately,” Gabriel confirmed. “Once they’ve got your scent they never lose it and they never give up, like fucking badgers, but bigger.” Suddenly a new aroma was added to the demon lord’s pungent—but thankfully fading—odour. “Hey Saci, we missed you.”  
   
“What are you idiots still doing here?” the little South American god shouted. He hopped on his leg, obviously agitated. “I gave you way more than ten minutes, more like fifteen or twenty.”  
   
“A rather unfortunate encounter with a cliché villain,” Anansi answered him.  
   
“Followed by a possibly gruesome encounter with a pack of Hell Hounds,” Gabriel continued.  
   
“Hell Hounds!” the small god shouted in fright, “How did you attract Hell Hounds?”  
   
“Are they like Temple Dogs?” Nezha asked.  
   
“Not so much,” the former angel briefly explained, “Less with the guarding and more with the tearing of flesh.”  
   
“I don’t do Hell Hounds, guys, not now, not ever,” Saci said before, once again, blinking out. Gabriel sighed and wished he could do that too.  
   
He watched the ripples as the invisible hounds moved through the demon horde. He could hear the baying as it grew closer and louder and closer... Then it stopped and there were nearly a dozen Hell Hounds facing them in a half-circle, fully visible in all their evil glory.  
   
“Oh,” Anansi sighed, “This is more like it!”  
   
Their red and yellow eyes were lit like the flames of a fire. Their faces and shoulders were lined with horns and spikes. Their slobber was acid that hissed and bubbled where it fell. Their claws cut deep furrows in the hard stone. Their breath smelled like sulphur—which was an improvement actually—but mostly, they were big: size L to XXL. The smallest easily reached Gabriel’s hip, the largest would hit his ribs.  
   
Loki laughed. “These are the notorious Hounds of Hell?” Loki asked in disbelief, “These?”  
   
“The Black Dogs of any culture shouldn’t be taken lightly,” Anansi said. Gabriel couldn’t agree more. He was a good fighter—probably they were all good—but considering how many Hounds there were, the former angel figured at least a couple of them were all in for a painful—if temporary—death.  
   
Then Hel snorted and her lips lifted in something resembling a sneer. She looked at her father who was laughing out loud. “No problem,” he said, “I’ll take care of the puppies and you guys can run for the exit.”  
   
“What—” Māui started at the same time Nezha asked “How—” Neither one of them got to finish because Loki, a 7-foot tall Viking, disappeared. His reappearance as a wolf-like creature as big as an elephant caused the group to shift hastily. It was that or be trampled underfoot.  
   
Māui resettled himself on Gabriel’s shoulder, ruffling his wings and blowing Anansi sideways. Now Gabriel _really_ wanted to scratch. “You could have told us to move,” the bird said petulantly.  
   
Loki opened his mouth in a doggy grin and displayed teeth as long as Saci’s leg.  
   
The Hell Hounds looked like tea-cup poodles next to him and they obviously felt like tea-cup poodles because they hunched down and slid their tails under their bellies; a couple even whined submissively. Of course there had to be one, braver or more stupid than the rest, that bared its teeth and growled. It stepped forward aggressively, threateningly and Loki gave a doggie snort. He lifted one massive paw and casually flattened the Hound. He looked out over the rest of the pack and said “Woof.”  
   
The remaining Hounds broke and ran.  
   
Once the gods’ laughter died away, Coyote cleared his throat, “You know you’re very attractive in that form.” The Native American god was once again sitting up, tail wrapped primly around his toes.  
   
Loki turned his snout toward the smaller, much smaller, canid. “Are you coming on to me?”  
   
Coyote shrugged. “My peoples were always more accepting of the two-natured, at least until Christianity came along and ruined them.”  
   
“That is also true of my people,” Loki responded and his grin widened and became an inviting leer.  
   
Before the moment could turn awkward for the other gods in the room, Nezha flew between them. “This is not the time for fornication,” he said sternly. “The demon lord has defeated its enemy and will be returning.”  
   
Flying over to perch between Loki’s ears, Māui added “His forces already approach.”  
   
Gabriel looked up and, sure enough, a dark wave was spilling over the floor of the chamber and it wasn’t the half-strength army they’d faced before. The demons Saci had lured away earlier had obviously returned. They’d turned the tide of battle with the second demon lord and now they formed a living carpet that was moving rapidly toward them and planned on killing them.  
   
The former archangel’s voice rang out, “Okay, peoples, it’s time to split this weenie roast.” His voice barely had time to fade before they were running toward the exit.  
   
Gabriel had his angel sword and it did a good job on demons, forcing their component atoms to burst apart as they attempted to escape from the heavenly metal. Loki had changed back into his humanoid form but had added at least a cubic-foot onto his frame so that he was freaking _huge_. It matched the size of axe he swung. Hel had a blade. It was closer in size to a dagger than a sword but it never missed what she swung it at and whatever she hit stopped, withered and died—magic knives for the win. Coyote was just as effective a fighter as the others. It was surprising considering the size of his chosen shape. He was big for a coyote, sure, but still small when compared with the average demon, yet he would dart in and nip hamstrings and calves, trying for the vulnerable tendons around the joints. The crippled demons would fall and be crushed under the feet of their uncaring cohorts. Maybe even breaking a leg or two has the ones doing the trampling tripped and fell over the ones being trampled.  
   
Above them Nezha whirled and spun, causing broken wings and broken bodies, forcing the demons out of the sky. Māui was there with him. No longer a delicate tropical confection, he’d assumed the shape of a gull. Large, aggressive and manoeuvrable, the Oceanic god harried whichever demon looked about to break through Nezha’s spear work. A couple times, when he had a chance to look up, Gabriel was certain the two would foul each other—Nezha’s weapons were moving so fast and Māui was unpredictable—but it never happened. Nezha’s spear would shoot forward, directly toward the bird god, but Māui would no longer be there. Instead, the spear would hit a demon that had magically flown right into its path.  
   
Anansi cheered all them on from his place in Gabriel’s hair. “This is just like in one of my stories!” He shouted in excitement.  
   
The former angel ducked under a fast-moving club the size of a telephone pole. He stepped forward with his sword and pierced his opponent’s chest. He closed his eyes against the resulting blast. “You could help, you know,” Gabriel suggested.  
   
“Not my field of expertise, I’m afraid.” The spider sighed unhappily but, not long after, Gabriel noticed that more than a few demons tripped into each other or knocked each other off their feet. He could sometimes see nearly invisible silken strands glittering faintly in the light from an exploding demon. It wasn’t ordinary spider silk, which gave the former angel an idea...  
   
Saci appeared in one of the tunnels. He kept himself mostly out of sight but every once in a while he popped out and tossed his stones into the crowd of demons. At first, Gabriel thought it was just another pointless annoyance that Tricksters were famous for, but then Anansi tapped him on the forehead and pointed up. The demons who were hit by Saci’s stones didn’t get annoyed; they got transported to a spot near the ceiling of the very high chamber and dropped. They fell through the air, limbs flailing, screaming, only to land on the ground with a squishy thud.  
   
On the whole, they mowed down the demon horde as if it were a wheat field, dry and brittle after a drought.  
   
They were so close, nearly safe in the tunnel, when the demon lord jumped over its minions and landed in front of the Tricksters.  
   
“Bet it says ‘you will not escape’,” Anansi said.  
   
“YOU CANNOT ESCAPE!”  
   
“Close,” Gabriel conceded while trying to breathe shallowly to minimize the smell.  
   
“I’m willing to fight my way out,” Loki stated. He bounced forward confidently, swinging his axe in broad strokes, but a touch of a wet nose to his arm stopped him.  
   
“Allow me,” Coyote said. He moved in front of the Norse god, hopped into the air, and transformed. He was no longer a coyote, not even a man. He had transformed into a huge bird of prey with a wingspan that overshadowed the whole room. He pumped his wings once and the demon horde was blasted backward. He blinked and sheet lighting cleared the demons from the air. “We shall pass,” he said and his tone, always deep, was that of the ocean’s depth or a mountain’s heart.  
   
The demons cringed under its weight. Even the demon lord had to fight to remain upright.  
   
“Our fight isn’t with you, Lord Astroturf.” Gabriel winced at the nickname. “You do not want that to change.”  
   
Coyote snapped his beak and the sound was like a thousand glaciers breaking in a single instant. The walls of the chamber shook and chunks fell from the roof. Coyote beat his borrowed wings and drove the demons even further back. “Go now, before our patience is completely gone.”  
   
The minions followed the advice and poured out of the chamber, abandoning their leader with embarrassing enthusiasm.  
   
For a moment, it looked like Azragoth would stand its ground but thankfully, survival instinct trumped innate stupidity and it bounded away on its tacky cloven feet. And if a final bolt lit the former demon lord’s trite little tail on fire? None of the Tricksters were going to comment. Snicker, yes. Comment, no.  
   
Anansi waited until the Native American Trickster resumed a human shape before congratulating him. “Coyote, that was inspired,” he said. “Thunderbird is very powerful.”  
   
“Just as long as he doesn’t find out,” Coyote said worriedly. “He has less sense of humour than Hel, and some anger control issues on top of that. He _will_ hunt me down if he ever finds out I impersonated him again.”  
   
“Don’t worry,” Loki said, patting him reassuringly, “What happens in Hell; stays in Hell. It’s like a rule or something.”  
   
“Although you could have done that a little sooner,” Gabriel said. He was using a piece of his shirt as a bandage—demon cuts hurt like a mother—so he almost missed Coyote’s mumble. “What’s that?”  
   
“I _said_ it didn’t occur to me.” He practically yelled it.  
   
Māui, a bright little bird once again, flew around him to land on the Norse god’s shoulder. He may have been laughing, Gabriel _knew_ Anansi was, but before any comments were made a shout from the side of the chamber caught all their attentions. Saci was hopping up and down. “Guys! Guys! I found them!” His smile was visible from here, “I found the cage.”  
   
“Excellent,” Nezha purred, “I find myself anxious to discover the resolution to our quest.” He was cleaning the spear on his sash, the demons’ dark blood being absorbed into the cloth. Gabriel took a quick look at his sword but it was clean. Once again he gave thanks for a weapon that cleaned itself.  
   
“All good stories are like that,” the spider god agreed. “Did I ever tell you about the time I met up with a crocodile?”  
   
“Did I ever tell you about the time I met up with a dragon?” the Asian god countered and Anansi, outgunned and outclassed, kept his story to himself.  
   
They moved as a unit to the tunnel, bodies relaxed but alert, minds focussed but wary. It reminded the former archangel of fighting beside his brothers and sisters. They’d had the same connection then, working easily in perfect sync. No army in the world had been able to match their professionalism. He hadn’t realized he’d missed that until just now.  
   
“You know,” Coyote, back in canid form, commented, “Demon meat ain’t half bad. Kinda tastes like chicken, barbequed with hickory sauce.”  
   
Oh yeah, Gabriel thought sarcastically, they were professionals…  
   
Saci had pulled out his pipe and was puffing on it in smug excitement. He dismissed their boss battle with a casual wave of his hand and proceeded to regale them with the story of the chase he’d led and how he’d found Lucifer’s cage. Since his tale looked like it was going to take a while, and his red cap still smelled like stale sweat and farts, it didn’t take long for the others to fall away. However Anansi was always interested in a good story and he didn’t have any olfactory nerves to speak of so he was an eager audience. As he was still making the former angel his mule, Gabriel got to listen to—and smell—Saci all the way to the cage.  
   
Luckily, it wasn’t far.  
   
The opening was warded to keep lesser creatures out but the Enochian sigils didn’t work very well on the pagan gods. Gabriel and the rest slipped in with no problem, just a slight tingling on his skin which tickled way less than having a spider crawl around in his hair.  
   
They walked around a corner, into a huge vertical chamber, and they could finally see what they’d been searching for: Lucifer’s cage.  
   
It wasn’t a literal cage; there was no lock to pick, no bars to cut. It was unfortunate, Coyote said and the others agreed, because physical objects were more easily broken than symbolic metaphysical constructions. In the centre of the high narrow cave, the two angel/human hybrids were suspended in a column of light.  
   
“Oh come on!” Anansi spat in disgust, “I thought we’d left the tropes behind with Lord Banal back there.”  
   
“The cautious seldom err,” Nezha said floating past them, “Confucius.”  
   
Coyote provided the translation, “If it ain’t broke, why fix it.”  
   
“Caution doesn’t have to mean boring,” the spider griped.  
   
“But it so often does,” Coyote said. He padded a couple steps further, looking at the two figures fighting in the light. “So we’ve found Samifer and Micham. Now what?”  
   
 _Samifer and Micham?_ Gabriel mouthed to himself before shaking off the horror; Coyote had sounded like one of those online fans of the prophet’s books and that was something he just didn’t want to contemplate.  
   
He looked into the cage at his former brothers and knew they hadn’t noticed the gods’ arrival. The angels were shouting and posturing and punching each other with terrific force. Their clothing showed evidence of prolonged physical confrontation, shirts ripped and blood-spattered, and all Gabriel could do was hope that they’d healed their vessels even as they’d damaged them. Out loud he said, “I need Anansi and Māui.”  
   
“I thought you were going to do it?” the African god said. “Rescue them, I mean.”  
   
“I am, and you’re going to help me.” Gabriel reached up and plucked Anansi from his hair. “This is what we have to do…”  
   
The theory was simple, as theories usually were and he had no idea if it would actually work but he didn’t tell the others that, but it’s not like they had a lot of choice. They couldn’t reach in physically to pull out the angels in their vessels because that would wreck their cage and _that_ would let Lucifer and Michael head topside where they’d continue their fight and destroy the planet. So Gabriel had decided to separate the vessels from the angels while pulling them out of the light.  
   
To start, Anansi spun a web across the spot they were going to pull Sam and the other one out, and Gabriel chanted over it. He used an angelic exorcism that he hadn’t heard since the last war between the angels, and the murmured words became part of the silk. To seal the exorcism in, Gabriel used a hint of what was left of his grace. When he reached the end of the invocation, the pair would stop, turn in a new direction, and start all over again. When they were done, the web was made up of rough looking Enochian sigils. It was the most crazy-assed spider web any of them had ever seen but it glowed slightly blue-white in the dark space so he figured it must be working.  
   
While they did that, Māui worked with Saci and Hel to form a rope. Saci juggled bones scavenged from the dead demons, Hel drew their souls or their power—or whatever had animated them—from the bones, and Māui quickly wove the strands into a rope made of pure spirit. Since the rope was metaphysical, it should, theoretically, penetrate into the cage. Since they’d used demon spirit, it should latch on to the angels’ grace with no problem, an ancient enmity used for a higher purpose. Māui would then pull the brothers out through Anansi’s web.  Between the invocation, the grace and the Enochian, there should be enough power in the spider’s web to essentially _comb_ the angel out of the vessel.  
   
In theory…  
   
In reality, Tricksters knew all too well how good intentions and best laid plans could get screwed up—mostly because they were the cause—so Nezha was kneeling on the ground, burning incense and asking his ancestors to look favourably on their efforts. Coyote was burning sage, chanting prayers to the Four Quarters, and calling on the Great Spirit to do the same thing.  
   
Loki was propped up in the corner, admiring Coyote’s ass. He wasn’t much into the introspection. Live, die; win, fail; as far as he was concerned whatever happened, it had been a hell of an adventure.  
   
Lucifer and Michael had abandoned their fight to watch the Tricksters. Lucifer pointed at Gabriel and pressed forward against his invisible cage. He shouted, but Gabriel couldn’t hear. Michael poked him and, from the body language between them, Michael asked his brother for the story. Lucifer told him—Gabriel recognized some of the moves as recreations from the hotel—and then Michael punched him in the jaw. Sam flew through the air, hit the side of the cage and bounced back into the middle. Lucifer shook himself and glared at his brother. With a yell he charged the other angel. Instantly, it became a knock down-drag out. Blood flew, making the boundaries of their cage visible before the red burned away.  
   
It made Gabriel weary to see the anger that still existed between the two. Dean and Sam had managed to mostly forgive each other and they were only human. Weren’t angels supposed to be more than humans, something better? Then he remembered that he wasn’t an angel anymore and that was even more depressing.  
   
A call from Māui told him the preparations were done.  
   
“Ready?” he asked the Trickster. Māui nodded and walked over to stand in front of the web. Gabriel crossed his fingers and prayed to a god he no longer had a right to.  
   
This was the first time he’d seen Māui in human form and he was impressed. The Oceanic god didn’t have Loki’s height but there was a sense of solidity, of connection to the Earth and the world around him. He looked like a god who had pulled islands out of the bottom of the sea. Pulling two humans out of a cage meant to hold angels should be no problem.  
   
They hoped.  
   
Māui threw the rope and, as they’d hoped, it passed right through the Enochian warding. First hurdle crossed. The rope sought out the bodies, demons looking for hosts, and latched on. It grabbed both at once which was unexpected but a definite bonus. Second hurdle down. Sam appeared shocked, like a current had run through him. He looked up and out at the Tricksters standing around the cage watching. He looked right at Gabriel... and smiled.  
   
Then Māui started to pull and the brothers began to move.  
   
Gabriel could see that Michael was fighting fully against the drag of the rope and he didn’t think that was a good sign in terms of there being any Adam left in his own body. Maybe there was still some; they’d have to wait until he got pulled through the web... if the web worked.  
   
Lucifer, on the other hand, seemed to be fighting himself. His face would twist and his hands would clench and he’d take a couple steps forward then he’d stop as if turned into a pole, and the process would be repeated. It didn’t take long for blood to start running from his nostril and Gabriel knew the fight was taking its toll on Sam buried within his own body. But it was working...  
   
“Holy fuck, it’s working!” Coyote exclaimed, obviously surprised.  
   
“ _Filho da puta,_ ” Saci whispered in awe.  
   
Even Hel gave a small little smile.  
   
 _Hang on, Sam_ , Gabriel whispered in the corner of his own mind, _I owe you this_.  
   
Then movement stopped.  
   
Michael had grabbed on to Sam’s body. He’d braced his feet and, with Lucifer’s help, was holding them in place. They could see the sweat starting to bead on Māui’s face. Veins popped out of muscles distended with effort and the god grunted like a sumo wrestler as he struggled against Lucifer and Michael’s combined strength.  
   
“Shit,” Gabriel said, uncrossing his arms and straightening. “We have to do something.”  
   
“Like what?” Saci asked. He was hopping again and his stones were spinning.  
   
Hel snorted. “Dead is dead,” she said before heading to the rope. She grabbed on and pulled, adding her not inconsiderable strength to the Trickster’s.  
   
The angels shifted.  
   
“Too bad we don’t have more death goddesses with us,” Saci said.  
   
Coyote shrugged. He settled his hat on his newly reformed human-shaped head. “I’ve been to the underworld. Maybe that’ll be good enough.” He walked over and took hold.  
   
Another inch... two...  
   
Loki pushed off from his spot on the side. “I’ve walked the Halls as well. Death doesn’t scare me.”  
   
The angels slipped even nearer to the web and Gabriel could see Sam’s face contort with effort. He struggled against the angel inside him and the angel without and blood ran from his nose in a steady stream. It was joined by a trickle from his eye but he did manage to take a couple steps closer. The gods quickly gathered up the slack before the angels could make Sam retreat any.  
   
Then his progress stopped once again.  
   
“Toss the stones at the cage,” Anansi suggested, “Break their concentration maybe.”  
   
“Right,” Saci agreed.  
   
“Make sure they’re not powered up,” Anansi said, “They might break through the barrier and then they’d escape.  
   
Saci nodded and threw. The stone hit, there was a crack and a flash. The angels flinched and were pulled a half foot forward. Saci threw another one but this time they were better prepared and they barely moved.  
   
“Shit,” Gabriel muttered.  
   
Suddenly, Anansi began to sing, a hypnotic melody that would’ve been familiar two hundred years ago on most of the plantations of the New World even if the words weren’t English. It was a working song, a song for slaves pulling heavy weight over great distances. The gods picked up the rhythm quickly and the angels inched closer. Saci pelted the walls of the cage with stone and coins and long dried bones. He flashed around the cage throwing them from different sides and different heights. He made sure his throws didn’t match the rhythm of the song so that the angels could never be sure when the next one would hit.  
   
Gabriel was the only one who wasn’t doing anything to help and he knew he had to do something. But what? They already knew he was here so he couldn’t surprise them. He could hardly walk up to the cage and moon them. If it had been Dean in there he could’ve become Dr. Sexy and turned the hunter into a total fanboy.  
   
Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea. He was good at TV.  
   
The wall behind him brightened:  
   
...Two small boys sat on a rug running toy cars around and over each other...  
...A healthy baby grinned up at his mother and splashed the water even harder just to hear her laugh...  
...Two boys sat on a couch under a thin blanket, munching popcorn and watching Thundercats. The younger giggled when the older quoted along with the show...  
...A thin boy received a bow and arrow for his birthday and went hunting non-existent rabbits with his father in the deep Minnesota woods...  
...A young man stood over his brother and patiently explained, once again, how to carry when adding...  
   
The memories played out as a mosaic, projected large and in 3D against the chamber’s walls.  
   
“A little hackneyed, don’t you think?” Coyote called out.  
   
“Remember what Nezha said about the ‘column of light as a cage’?” Gabriel responded. Who cared if it was clichéd and trite; if it worked, it worked.  
   
And it worked. The angels looked up at the display, attention caught. For Michael it only lasted a moment, he looked up once then looked away, his mind once again focussed on fighting against the Tricksters. Gabriel sighed sadly. Adam was truly gone.  
   
Sam, however... Sam’s emotions fought through the angel controlling him. His eyes fixated on the images, moving over them, absorbing them. Some of them made him smile, some of them made him sad. He stepped forward struggling toward the images of his own past.  
   
Lucifer fought him for control. The body shook, muscles locked. More blood ran down Sam’s face. He swallowed. He shrugged his shoulders and he clenched his teeth and used all the stubbornness Dean had ever accused him of to keep moving. He stepped forward, once, twice. His greater strength, aided by the gods on the rope, overpowered Michael’s efforts to hold him in place. He was winning. Lucifer made one final effort to take back control—they could see it in Sam’s face—but Māui called out, the gods gave one tremendous heave. Sam and Lucifer were caught up in the struggle for control over the body so neither one of them had it. When the Tricksters pulled the rope, they overbalanced and were dragged into Gabriel’s web.  
   
It didn’t get any easier.  
   
The web sank through Sam’s skin, bending and stretching but not breaking. The Enochian sigils glowed as the angel inside the hunter’s body came in contact with the invocation that Gabriel had chanted into the silk. Sam screamed, his voice husky with pain. But it wasn’t Sam’s voice that caught the Tricksters’ attention. There was another element, an eerie squeal, like static or worn-down brakes, that flowed under the hunter’s agonized tone.  
   
“What is that?” Saci asked. He was covering his ears.  
   
“Lucifer,” Gabriel answered sadly, “That’s his real voice.”  
   
Anansi sang louder, a repetitive chorus. The gods joined in and managed to mostly drown out the angel’s screams.  
   
They pulled. The web glowed. Lucifer fought to stay in his chosen vessel. Sam bled and cried out in pain.  
   
Gabriel moved in closer. He had to do something.  
   
Some of Sam’s body was out of the cage and through the web so Gabriel touched him, skin to skin, and began chanting: ‘‘ _Omni potentas dei potestatum invoco. Omni potentas dei potestatum invoco..._ ” He continued the invocation, the same one he’d used on the spider silk; it had the same effect. It loosened Lucifer’s hold on Sam’s body. The fallen angel’s grace bulged from Sam’s eyes and mouth but it retreated from the Enochian infused web. Instead a shadow of light formed through the back of the hunter’s body: Lucifer, emerging as if from a cocoon.  
   
 _‘‘Hoc angelorum in obsequentum. Domine expue...”_  
   
Gabriel chanted. The gods pulled. Michael held on. Sam screamed but he did get pulled through the web and Lucifer exploded out behind. The power of the expulsion blasted Michael out of Adam’s body and it lay, floating in the light, still and unmoving.  
   
“Cut the rope,” Gabriel ordered, even as he moved to obey his own command. The spirit rope shredded and disappeared; incorporeal once again. Without that support the gods toppled over and Sam collapsed to the floor. The hunter panted in pain and tried to curl in on himself. Gabriel checked his eyes but they seemed clear, their normal hazel colour not full-on black. He ripped another piece off his shirt and cleaned some of the blood off the hunter’s face.  
   
“Dean?”  
   
Figures the guy’s first words would be about his brother. Gabriel snorted; Winchesters, man, they never changed. “He’s fine, or at least healthy. You’ll get to see him soon.”  
   
Sam nodded weakly. He tried to lift his hand to take the cloth from Gabriel but the appendage just flopped around. “Adam?”  
   
Gabriel looked up into the cage. He could already see signs of decay. “I’m sorry,” he said.  
   
Sam shook his head, “Don’t...don’t be sorry,” he forced the words out, voice rough and dry. “You saved me,” He coughed.  
   
Gabriel didn’t have any water to give him. Why the fuck hadn’t they brought water? A skeletal arm reached over his shoulder with a canteen. Gabriel took it, sniffed it. It was a beer kind of, not great for an injured guy but better than nothing. He poured a little dribble into Sam’s mouth and the hunter swallowed greedily. He gave him some more.  
   
“Don’t give him much,” Hel said, “It’s not really meant for humans.”  
   
Gabriel looked up at her. “What do you mean?”  
   
She shrugged. “It’s from my halls.” It took a moment then he understood. Only dead people lived in Helheim. Anything served in her Halls had been made specifically for dead people. Not for people who were technically alive. Like former angel vessels residing in Hell...  
   
“Oh shit,” Gabriel whispered, “Dean’s going to kill me.”  
   
Sam smiled. It started small then grew. “Why break with tradition?” He asked and then he laughed. He wrapped an arm around obviously aching ribs, and just laughed.  
   
Gabriel thought about all the times they’d killed each other, Dean killing him, him killing Dean, Sam killing him. It _was_ kind of a thing with them, wasn’t it. Suddenly, he was laughing too. They’d done it. They’d rescued Sam from Lucifer’s cage. He was here, alive and himself. Whatever effect Hel’s mead would have on the guy, at least he was alive. The others joined in.  
   
“We should get going,” Coyote interrupted, his ears twitching. “I don’t think the demons want us here and that demon lord might like to have another go at us.”  
   
The reminder that they were still in danger made the Tricksters sober up. Loki bent and put an arm around Sam’s shoulder. He helped the big hunter to his feet and braced him while he tried to get his balance back, for the first time in a long time, all by himself.  
   
“How do we get out?” Saci asked. “Go up?”  
   
Sam shook his head, and wobbled dizzily. “It would open the cage if we did that here.”  
   
“Back to Hel’s hall in Niflheim,” Gabriel said.  
   
Loki protested, “That’s a hell of a walk with an injured guy.”  
   
The newest Trickster smiled, “Who said anything about walking?” He lifted his finger and snapped. He knew where they were going this time. Unlike the trip in, this time the destination was clear and fixed in his mind. He couldn’t get them right into Helheim but they were at the crack that separated the two worlds and it was easy enough to slip through.  
   
The halls were plain but at least they didn’t stink.  
   
“So what now?” Saci asked.  
   
Nezha twirled his spear before sheathing it on his back. “Now we go back to being what we were.”  
   
Hel snorted. “The balance has changed.” They looked at her, waiting for more. She said nothing.  
   
It was Māui who finished the thought. “Things on earth might be a little different from when we left. What we did was a hero’s quest—”  
   
“And those never leave the world unchanged,” Loki finished. His eyes were slitted in thought. “That could be interesting.”  
   
“I’m going back to Brazil. I’ve had enough of this hero crap.” Saci gave them a sloppy salute, “It’s been a slice, guys,” and he was gone.  
   
“Huh,” Gabriel grunted, surprised and kind of hurt at the boy god’s abrupt departure.  
   
Nezha smiled gently, “He is not suited for a warrior’s role and one should never try to force a creature against its nature.”  
   
“Yeah,” Loki agreed, “for a whiny little coward he did pretty good.”  
   
The Asian Trickster spun his gold ring a couple times before pocketing it. “I too must return to my home. If things are as unsettled as Hel says then there might be a need for my skills. Dragons are... challenging creatures, no matter what their form.” He gave a slight bow. “It has been an honour to save the world with you.”  
   
The other gods responded with varying degrees of formality. Loki gave him a warrior’s handgrip, wrist to wrist. Gabriel touched his forehead. Coyote wagged his tail. Māui decided to travel with him, at least for part of the journey, since their paths lay in the same direction. Nezha’s disks spun and the two gods disappeared into the wind.  
   
“So, Coyote, do you want to do some exploring together,” Loki said. Gabriel had never seen a coyote blush before, but he was pretty sure he was seeing it now.  
   
“You may leave now,” Hel ordered. She looked at each of them in turn before adding “It was enjoyable.” She turned and marched away.  
   
A large spider jumped onto her shoulder. “Actually,” Anansi said hesitantly, “I’d like to stay here, maybe talk to some of the inhabitants, hear their stories.” She shrugged; it nearly bumped him off but it wasn’t a ‘no’.  
   
The Trickster coughed and tried not to sound eager. “Oscar Wilde wouldn’t happen to be one of your residents, would he?”  
   
Gabriel smiled. Anansi had sounded like such a geek... It was kind of cute. He turned to Loki and Coyote. “I’m going to take Sam someplace safe, so he can recover in peace. See if Hel’s mead did anything to him.”  
   
“I feel okay,” Sam protested. Loki raised an eyebrow and released him. He wobbled, “Woah, I’m all heavy or something.” He lifted his hand and stared at it.  
   
The Norse god chuckled, “He needs to adjust to being all alone inside himself again.” He threw his arms wide. “Ah, Gabriel, look at us. We did it. A mismatched, cantankerous bunch of pranksters, cowards and heroes.”  
   
“How the Trickster Gods Stormed Hell,” Gabriel quoted.  
   
Loki smiled in agreement. “It’s a tale for the bards! I think I shall go whisper in that man’s ear. You know, the one who wrote those books about Nancy.”  
   
“Gaiman,” Sam supplied, swaying on his feet, but still awake.  
   
“That’s the one!” Loki extended his arm. “They will talk of that old spider for generations because of those books. I think it’s time we got a piece of that energy, don’t you?” He clasped their wrists, first Sam’s then Gabriel’s. “Next time you see Kali give her my regards, yes?” His eyes flashed a feral gold and Gabriel saw the huge wolf-creature echoed in the Norse god’s eye.  
   
“I’ll do that.”  
   
Loki nodded then, with a final salute, he was gone as well.  
   
Gabriel turned to the big hunter. “So, you chuckleheads managed to fix the world after all”  
   
Sam chuckled, “Sounds like we maybe put it back together wrong.”  
   
“I guess I’ll just have to help you this time,” Gabriel said softly, “Make sure you do it right.”  
   
“Yeah, that sounds like a plan.” The hunter held out his hand, “Welcome to Team Free Will. A little late but better than never.”  
   
Gabriel stared at it for a moment before reaching out and taking it. “Let’s go home, Sam.”  
   
In the room the left behind, the air swirled and churned, and the only thing left was a single feather—not white, not black, but something in between. The pedestrian attempt at symbolism would have made Anansi groan in disgust.  
 

**Author's Note:**

> So I’m pretty sure, like really pretty sure, that this is it for this series. I have a feeling that season 6 is likely to run a bulldozer through the world I’ve created. I look forward to the ride. =]


End file.
